Beyond This Horizon
by Mandelene
Summary: Alfred's merely a young wolf pup with a knack for trouble and a hunger for adventure, but when he stumbles upon humans camping in the forest, he discovers that he isn't as invincible as he'd like to be. Luckily, his mentor Arthur is there to set him straight and teach him the consequences of handling dangerous predicaments with such carelessness. (One-shot)


**Author's Note: **So, I wrote this story about a year ago and never got around to posting it. x) It's been sitting in my collection of documents long enough to be granted the privilege of being set out into the world, and I hope you retrieve at least some enjoyment from it. (Inspired by my dog who snorts, huffs, and whines whenever she's displeased with me.)

* * *

Balmy sunshine floods over his face as he flattens himself onto the tickling blades of meadow grass, playfully clawing at a butterfly that's circling him while lying on his back. He pulls his ears back in the semblance of a smile, big blue eyes surveying the fluttering insect with a profound fascination.

There's so much about the world that he wants to uncover; so much curiosity in his heart that demands to be felt every time he steps outside of the boundaries set by his pack.

He huffs softly and rolls over, standing up slowly and stretching out his paws. He then lets his gaze wander down the barren hillside, all the way down to where a thicket of trees separates into two valleys. What he wouldn't give to run for miles, never looking back so that he could see what all the splendid earth was holding out of sight.

A sudden bark catches him off guard, sending him cowering back into the tall grass, tail lowered in shame. He sniffs the air and expects a familiar scent to waft through his nostrils, but it turns out the sound didn't come from who he'd anticipated to come looking for him.

It's Matthew who'd been sent to collect him, lavender-eyed and fur all fluffy from his recent bath.

He regards his pack member coolly. "Arthur's looking for you, Alfred. He won't be happy if you're late for your hunting lesson or if he finds out that you keep separating yourself from the pack."

Alfred huffs again, though this time it's considerably more forceful. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't get your tail in a twist." He begins to hike across the hill, back to the cave where the rest of what he likes to call the 'tribe' is located. Matthew, of course, lags behind him the entire way to make sure that he doesn't try to sneak away again.

"Stupid, Arthur," Alfred ultimately growls under his breath a few minutes later, eyes suddenly sullen and pained. He despises the leader of his pack, whom he's supposed to venerate with the utmost respect. The alpha male isn't even his father, but treats him like his own pup often. It's uncertain what had happened to Alfred's real parents when he was barely a month old. Supposedly, he was found alone in the snow one winter with no other soul in sight. He'd been badly injured at the time, and if it weren't for Arthur's pack finding him when they did, he probably wouldn't have lived to see another day.

He doesn't remember much from that time—can't even remember what had attacked him and his family—but he does have dreams on occasion of someone whispering into his ear softly, offering words of encouragement as he fought through the delirium of the pain that once engulfed his tiny body.

He's just about six-months old now, and Arthur has decided that it's time that he took some real responsibility within their little clan. Part of this means that he is the one who has to start hunting with the adults, and seeing how Alfred is a disaster at killing absolutely _anything_, Arthur had recently volunteered to teach him the proper way to catch his prey.

All in all, he appreciates Arthur's help, he really does, but there are times when the older wolf infuriates him. It seems that whatever he does, he does wrong in the eyes of Arthur. He is always being scolded for mucking around in the mud, being too impatient, or for not respecting his elders.

He feels as though he is always on a leash, being told what to do and what not to do every second of every day.

And all he requests is just a little more freedom.

It's then that said wolf appears, white-blond fur and sharp green-eyes boring into Alfred's skull. The mere purity of his coat makes it obvious that the pup isn't Arthur's offspring. The older animal has a graceful way in which he carries himself, tall and stolid in his stance. Alternatively, Alfred's coat is blotched with spots of smoldering brown and tarnished blond, making him naturally more ragged looking. Blue eyes challenge the green, a silent argument taking place between the two before they even near each other.

Alfred has already read the question in Arthur's eyes.

"Where've you been?"

He narrows his eyes and bows his head reluctantly, knowing that he is required to do so each time he is approached by the alpha-male.

"Playing with Matthew," he grumbles in response, unable to come up with anything more plausible.

"In the future, don't waste my time," Arthur orders, looming over the pup to reinforce his firm warning. "Come along, then."

He pads along shame-facedly after his father figure, head low and mind already disinterested as he is guided between trunks of trees and through an endless stretch of scattered soil. His mind is so far off, in fact, that he doesn't even notice that Arthur has set his eyes on some prey until the elder is already on his haunches in the grass, trained eyes focused calmly on the beige rabbit ahead of them. Alfred ducks beside his mentor, lying down in the grass out of sheer boredom.

Arthur scowls at him, eyes incredulous at his laziness. "Get up! Let's see if you can manage to kill it on your own. You claim to be so capable of everything yet you have not done a single thing to prove yourself. Go on!"

Alfred bares his teeth at the elder; something which is severely frowned upon among the other members of the pack. It's the ultimate show of insolence, which would not have been tolerated had the perpetrator been someone other than himself. Arthur, however, has grown used to the flippancy, blaming it on the fact that Alfred had never had any true parents to raise him into a well-behaved wolf.

The pup is too big to pick up by the scruff of the neck and carry home any longer, which makes it much more difficult to discipline him. Thus, Arthur simply nips at Alfred's tail firmly, sending him barreling forward in pain, trying to run off the sting. The action results in the young wolf staring face-to-face with the terrified rabbit, which quivers with a yellowish flower—still half-nibbled— hanging from its mouth.

Alfred's paws are shoulder width apart as he glares menacingly at the little creature, getting some pleasure from the feeling of superiority. He's at the top of the food-chain. There's nothing in the world that can conquer him!

His throbbing tail long forgotten, Alfred goes in to lunge at the rabbit's throat, fangs visible and at the ready.

But something stops him.

His teeth never reach the creature's tender skin before he lets it go, watching as it hops for its life in the opposite direction, thinking it's been spared.

The relief is short-lived however, when Arthur jumps out of the grass and bounds after the prey, easily outrunning it and tearing into it without a second-thought.

Alfred squeezes his eyes shut in remorse, berating himself for both failing to please Arthur and for being unable to save the rabbit's life. He sits in the dirt somberly, observing as Arthur brings the bloodied rabbit back to him and drops it at his feet.

"It's that easy," he says listlessly.

Stomach-churning sadness overwhelms Alfred's very core, making him tremble as he repeats how casually Arthur had drilled his teeth into the animal over and over again in his head.

How can he be a proper wolf if he can't even kill a stupid rabbit?

"I expect you to pay more attention next time. Let's see if we can catch something larger," Arthur suggests, already plodding around another set of trees.

Alfred drops his head in shame. Of course he won't be able to catch something bigger. He won't be able to catch anything at all even if his life depends on it. He can't stand hunting, though he knows that it is the only means of obtaining a sustainable amount of food. After all, wolves aren't capable of living off of berries for their entire lives. Meat is a _necessity_.

"Stay close to me," Arthur warns as Alfred finally catches up again. "It's hunting season for the humans, and they won't hesitate in shooting a wolf."

Humans? Alfred immediately becomes more aware of his surroundings, senses tingling and imagination heightening to impossible levels. He's never seen a human for his own eyes, but he's always wanted to even though the others always tell him that they are dangerous two-legged creatures that should never be trifled with.

"Pft… Humans… I bet you and I could take them on, Artie!" he says animatedly, causing the slightest hint of a smirk to appear on Arthur's face as he draws his ears back. The man rarely ever smiles, and Alfred is compelled to find out why.

"Never underestimate your opponent, Alfred. That is the most important rule of hunting," Arthur says mildly, hopping over a boulder. "Watch your step."

But Alfred's already misjudged the distance of the jump and somersaulted across the ground, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. "I meant to do that?"

Arthur lets out an exasperated sigh and encourages Alfred to get up, nudging his side with a wet snout as he inconspicuously makes sure that no harm has been done. The pup gets up on teetering legs, shaking off the leaves and dirt that cling to his fur as a result of the tumble before happily trailing after the elder wolf once more, rejuvenated by the news of humans in the forest.

Maybe going hunting with Arthur was worthwhile after all.

They meander through the forest for quite some time before spotting more suitable prey—a young doe lapping up water from the river. Arthur ceases their hike momentarily and warns Alfred to be silent with a stern expression, ears now tense and standing sharply upright.

The elder wolf digs his paws into the soil, sifting it through his claws as he waits for the perfect moment to strike. In fact, he's just about to make his move before he forces his attention away from the easy meal, taking note of the smell of smoke in the air. His nose twitches and suddenly his fiery glare crumbles, replaced with astonished features and a hint of worry.

Abandoning the doe, he swiftly returns to Alfred's side, ordering him to start retreating. "We're done for today," he announces all of a sudden, already leading the pup through a particularly dense thicket of trees for cover.

"But why?" Alfred queries as he is left with no choice but to oblige.

Arthur growls lowly, the sound vibrating deep in his throat. "Because I said so."

"Is it because of the smoke? Is there a fire? Did the humans light it?" Alfred continues, full of questions that Arthur is unwilling to answer.

"Just walk ahead of me so that I can keep an eye on you."

Alfred whines, sounding pitiful and severely disappointed as his ears droop and his paws leave little marks in the dirt. What an anti-climactic way to end the day.

'Things were just beginning to get interesting,' the puppy thinks with another sulky expression.

* * *

It's late into the night when Matthew notices that Alfred's gone missing yet again, leaving no sign of his whereabouts. He gets up uncertainly, debating whether or not to caution one of the adults about the lost member of their family. Having made his decision, he stands with a powerful yawn and exits the cave, planning on investigating a bit on his own before ratting Alfred out. Part of him hopes he just went down to the river for a quick drink of water.

He's stunned then, when he meets Arthur just outside the mouth of the cave, who is pacing back and forth apprehensively. They exchange inquiring looks before Arthur speaks.

"I worry about him whenever he wanders off," he murmurs, sitting down and looking off into the distance with a calculating air. "I know that he's been leaving the marked boundaries, and that this isn't the first time that he's snuck out at night, but I can't bring myself to stop him. I can see how much hope he has in a future that might hold something greater for him. I know he feels restricted by our pack, but it's the only way to keep him safe. Yet, I don't want to have to be the one who breaks his childish spirit by telling him that there will be nothing else waiting for him in the wild. His family won't magically reappear, and his ideal pack does not exist."

Matthew frowns, sitting down as well when Arthur sweeps his tail back and forth in agitation. "I know."

"It's even more dangerous now with humans lurking about. I have to go after him this time—to make sure he's all right. Hopefully, he won't notice my presence," Arthur muses, trading a final pointed look with Matthew before sprinting into the overgrown grass and out of sight. If he knows Alfred as well as he suspects that he does, he is confident that he will be able to easily pinpoint his location.

He barrels down the path that they had trekked earlier in the day, reaching the river and crossing it as quietly as possible.

The strong scent of smoke looms in the air again, and this time, Arthur can see the sparks from the fire glittering as they float into the air and extinguish themselves. He looks around for any sign of Alfred, catching his wheat-like smell almost immediately. The pup must be fairly close to the humans' campsite, circling it foolishly in order to satiate his curiosity.

Arthur can see the tents a short distance away, so he settles down into the grass, waiting patiently for Alfred's face to come into view. There's no use in stirring up commotion while in such territory, and the only thing he can do is hope that Alfred isn't reckless enough to stumble any closer and risk being seen.

It's unfortunate then that he spots Alfred crawling out of the bushes not a minute later, eyes wide and awestruck. Arthur snarls under his breath and rounds the perimeter after the pup, trying to catch up with him in time. As he plods through brush after brush, he contemplates how he will punish the rascal after all of this is over.

He pauses when he hears rustling, heart thumping in his chest as he witnesses one of the humans heaving a shotgun over their shoulder, hushing the others as he aims for his target.

And the target is an unsuspecting Alfred.

Letting out an alarmed bark of warning, Arthur runs as fast as his legs can carry him, tackling the pup as soon as he's close enough, protectively shielding the youngster from harm as the sound of gunfire explodes into a piercing frenzy of reverberations that pound against the wolves' eardrums.

A searing wave of hot pain ignites in his hind paw not a moment later, and he rolls over in the grass, barely containing a yelp as he feels warm blood soak his fur. Alfred fumbles and stands, staring at him in a horrified stupor as the small group of hunters begin advancing on them, preparing another shot.

"Go!" Arthur hisses through the shroud of immense pain, unsteadily rising and limping down the hillside.

Alfred doesn't need to be convinced to take the command to heart, already speeding in front of Arthur and paving a route to safety. The older wolf trails dizzily after the ball of fur, biting back the temptation to whine as he staggers onward, thankful that the voices of the humans are growing more distant with each step, meaning that they had probably lost sight of the pair and possibly believed that they had missed.

They are a relatively safe length away from the campsite of the hunters when Arthur's body decides that he can take no more, and he collapses, steadily losing an ample helping of blood.

"Arthur!" Alfred cries as he turns around and sees the spill. "Are you okay? You havta get up. We gotta keep walking."

The elder wolf only howls in pain, oblivious to fear and danger as he combats with the smarting wound. He writhes and twitches his paw, eyes tightly shut as he bites his tongue.

"A-Arthur?" Alfred calls his name timidly, resting a paw on his head. "Stop playing around."

The pup whimpers, flinching at the sight of the crimson blood plastered to Arthur's coat. He watches as his mentor's eyes become unfocused and delirious, seesawing on the edge of consciousness. Another couple of seconds pass and Arthur's eyes fall shut, breathing evening out as he slips into a world of numbing darkness.

"Wake up, Arthur! Please!" Alfred begs, letting out his own howl of despair as he lies down beside the other wolf, nuzzling his head into the other's neck. "I don't hate you! I'm sorry for not listening to you when you said to stay away from the h-humans!"

Hesitantly, he pokes out his tongue and runs it over the leaking wound, grimacing at the salty taste. Nonetheless, he continues the ministrations, ensuring that the saliva aids in some form of healing, however futile the effort may be.

There's no sign of a bullet lodged in the exposed flesh, and Alfred takes this to mean that it merely grazed Arthur. Still, the blood loss is worrisome, and he's not quite sure how to handle the situation.

"I'm s-sorry," Alfred gasps, whining shrilly. "P-Please get up!"

Tired eyes wrench themselves open, and Arthur emits the semblance of a groan, head aching and leg swelling. "You're safe, you barmy," he mumbles, scraping his tongue over the puppy's head with dripping affection that he can no longer contain.

"Y-You're hurt," Alfred whimpers once more, unsure of what else to say.

"I'll be fine," Arthur assures, gently lifting his head and turning to inspect the wound. "It's superficial, really… Just a little scratch."

Alfred shakes his head in disbelief, overwhelmed with a sudden respect and appreciation for Arthur. "You saved me… I thought you didn't like me."

"Of course I saved you. I would never abandon you, silly thing. Surely you know that? Just because you can be a pain in my neck at times doesn't mean that I'd ever want to see you hurt," Arthur says with a scoff, licking behind Alfred's ears for good measure. The little one is in desperate need of a bath, and he intends to give him a proper one in the near future.

Alfred takes a moment to feel touched, smiling at the tickling sensation of Arthur glossing over his fur. "Just like you saved me when I was a little puppy."

"You're still a puppy," Arthur reminds, turning onto his side carefully and reaching out a front paw to pull Alfred closer. "And don't you _ever_ do something so harebrained again, or so help me God I will personally deliver you to the humans myself."

Alfred lowers his ears and shoves his icy nose into Arthur's neck again, taking comfort in his warmth as the stars begin to lose their shine and the sun begins to rear its head over the horizon. "Don't let me get eaten."

Arthur is the one who smiles this time, resting his chin on the pup's head. "Not if I can help it. I suppose I have been a bit hard on you lately, but it's only because I want you to grow up strong and able to fend for yourself. Nevertheless, I suppose I could take you outside of the boundaries every now and then..."

"Really?" Alfred asks excitedly, pulling away from the other wolf. "You would do that?"

"If you behave and show me that you really _do _know how to hunt," Arthur proposes, feeling a little relieved upon seeing that the blood over the wound was beginning to crust. A few days of resting in the cave would do him wonders, and he would enlist Alfred to keep him entertained and to tend to him as punishment. "We can bend the rules every once in a while, hmm?"

Alfred jumps up and sloppily licks at the side of Arthur's face, causing the elder to growl. "You're the best!"

Arthur sighs and stands up gradually, walking on three paws instead of four. "Let's go home, shall we?"

Alfred nods and follows along animatedly, full of energy as for the first time, he's looking forward to greeting the rest of his pack.

"Mind your step!"

Subsequently, there's a small thud and a loud bark. How many times has the elder been forced to utter the same statement like a broken record, only to be disregarded?

"Oof! I'm okay!"

"Such a menace…" Arthur gripes with a roll of the eyes.


End file.
